


Starscream’s Soundwave Solution Services

by tragakes (lejf)



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Possibly Dubious Consent, Was just supposed to be porn but they caught feelings somewhere, but i wrote this in mind that soundwave was 11/10 percent willing, i never claimed to be a good person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 03:15:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15161309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lejf/pseuds/tragakes
Summary: In which Soundwave doesn’t stop working when he goes into heat, and simply stays at his station with his panel open. Starscream solves.





	1. Chapter 1

Today he learnt that there was a unique feature to Soundwave: he went into heat.

Starscream supposed it was for sparking more symbionts, though he doubted Soundwave wanted to do anything so inane as raise any more at this time. The heat came on nonetheless, making Soundwave’s valve heated and oh-so pliable, his panel impossible to close. 

Starscream stared. Then he stared some more, wings twitching agitatedly. “TC,” Skywarp asked in a deliberately loud whisper, “if you could impregnate a mech with just the pure strength of eyes, do you think Star would’ve knocked up Soundwave by now?“

Skywarp helm, meet smack. “Ow!”

“You ask such idiotic things,” Starscream said.

“Why, ‘cause the answer’s obviously _yes_?”

“ _You’re_ looking,” Starscream hissed accusingly. 

“I mean, it is a nice valve.” Skywarp’s tone took on a hint of dreamy appreciation. “A month ago I wondered if Soundwave even had a valve. Now I kinda just…”

Skywarp trailed off, because Soundwave’s valve was just there. In the open for everyone to see. Soundwave was standing at his console, panel withdrawn. Starscream could only catch the slightest catch of light nestled in the dark plating if he looked closely, but given the scent in the air, every mech was damn _looking closely_. It practically begged to be ruined. Small and demure, somehow refined-seeming even as a thin string of lubricant beaded from it. Starscream didn’t need telepathy to know that his trine-mate was thinking about how that valve would look wrapped around his spike.

“Do you think he’d mind if I just gave it a try?“

Thundercracker saved Skywarp from violently meeting the wall. “Okay ‘Warp,” he said, glancing towards a murder-ready Starscream. “Let’s go time-out.”

Starscream tried to look away — what had he come onto the Command deck for? — and found that he couldn’t. If it wasn’t the sight of Soundwave and his stupidly exposed valve, it was the feel of his EM field, thick and tangy and metallic. It reminded him of of iron dust on his claws, but more clean and inviting, and through the tang there was a thread of sweetness that dared someone to come and draw it out. 

The Vehicons certainly weren’t immune. They kept glancing over at their communications officer, and most had stopped dead in their tracks entirely. Starscream was on the opposite side of the deck and could hardly move. He couldn’t imagine if he were closer, seeing that softness up close, an arm’s reach away from just parting that valve and _taking–_

Control, Starscream. Control. Megatron was out of commission. _He_ was leading now. 

He took a deep in-vent. 

“OUT!” he screeched, EM field lashing like a sharp red nail through the haze that’d fallen over command. The drones jolted into movement. “This place is to be cleared out, do you hear me?” He grabbed the nearest one, claws screeching over its plating, shoving it towards the door. “Get out!”

Vehicons rushed to comply, and Starcream very pointedly did not focus on Soundwave as they did, distracted by the movement and lowered helms, shooing them until every last one had left. Then Starscream was alone in the room with the problem on his servos: Soundwave, in heat. Get him somewhere where he’s not a public menace. Starscream could admit a far degree of irony at the thought of _him_ having to play clean-up crew, but that was beside the point. 

“What are you doing?” Starscream finally asked, half-shouting, still keeping a wide distance from Soundwave. He knew it made him look ridiculous, but he doubted Soundwave cared. “Let’s skip over the question where you’re in heat and _no one_ goes into heat anymore, and instead let’s ask why you’re still here and not in— I don’t know, your _quarters_?”

Soundwave chose to answer by scrolling text across his visor, though Starscream was too far away to read it. He mentally begged the skies to give him strength. Then he stepped closer. Soundwave’s EM field washed over him, utterly destructive in its taste, and Starscream shuddered and pulled his own closer to his frame. He knew he was leaking all sorts of lust. 

Was it just him, or had Soundwave leaned over his console slightly? Were those hips always so narrow, and… grabbable? They’d look good between his claws. Dark blue against his silver. Not to mention that it was _Soundwave_ — unflappable Soundwave. Imagine if Starscream could frag him into making _noise_. Maybe something like little gasps and moans. And ooh, Starscream had never really considered Soundwave for interface, but the thought was rapidly bulldozing its way onto his top ten fantasies. 

Starscream needed a lot more than a prayer to the skies to get him through this. 

The text, which his optics had finally focused to read, reports for their dark energon mines, scouts, overall functionality of the Nemesis, sought cures for Megatron, and Starscream’s processor pulled a miniature conniption. “Work?” he said, incredulous, even though he shouldn’t have expected differently. His voice hitched. “Soundwave— go to your quarters. That’s an _order_.”

Soundwave didn’t budge. In fact, all he did was turn his visor back towards the console screen, flickering through information. 

“If you’re so obsessed with efficiency, then you know it’s inefficient to have to _quarantine_ off the Command centre because you’re too stubborn to leave!”

A short burst of static answered him, and that was that. Starscream briefly entertained physically grabbing Soundwave and dragging him away, but there was no hope of locking Soundwave in a room, not when Soundwave had control over every electronic mechanism in the ship. It also meant that Starscream would have to touch him and hold onto a squirming, overheated Soundwave… though whether that was a pro or con was rapidly becoming a blurred line in Starscream’s processor. 

This close, he could feel heat radiating from Soundwave’s plating. Unfazed as he appeared to be, Starscream knew better. “Not that quarantining would work,” Starscream continued, trying not to look at Soundwave where his body was narrowly tapered and sinfully exotic. “Skywarp would just _teleport_ in here.”

“Starscream, that’s not my problem,” Megatron's voice said from Soundwave’s speakers.

Starscream’s eyebrows shot upwards. For such a capable mech, Soundwave was extraordinarily dense. “Not your problem?” He crowded up against Soundwave, and now the heat radiating against his plating was immense — a needy, wanting heat that skittered over his plating and made him want to press forward closer, push this mech down against the console. He knew he wasn’t the only one affected, because a frame-wide shiver rattled through Soundwave as their EM fields meshed and became a landscape of shifting colours and matching desire. “Have you gone mental?” he snarled. “Any mech in this entire ship would want to bend you over right now. Forget looking for a cure for Megatron — you could probably walk in there and he’d wake up just to frag you!”

Soundwave’s shiver was much more pronounced this time, and Starscream tamped down irritation that it was mention of Megatron that made him react. 

_Starscream_ was the better mech. Why was Soundwave still thinking about Megatron now? Megatron was practically deactivated, whereas Starscream was right there! He was literally plating-to-plating with Soundwave, their engines thrumming in time, EM fields intertwined. He’d never touched so much of Soundwave in his life. 

But Soundwave made no verbal reply and no agreement to Starscream’s words. 

“Do you realise what they want to do to you?” Starscream pressed on, “What, frag, even _I_ want to do to you?”

His hand rested against Soundwave’s hips, and it sent a possessive trill of delight through him to see how easily his claws could curl around them. Unlike his own hips, where the plating of his legs covered the edges, Soundwave’s stopped short, narrowing into bearings to connect. It meant that they were surprisingly exposed as easy hand-holds that someone could use, like handles, to bounce Soundwave on their spike. 

Starscream pressed his lips right to Soundwave’s audial. “Everyone wants to touch you. Like this.” He let his claws drift up Soundwave’s back, tracing sharp lines, dipping into seams, stroking back down and feeling the struts quiver until he stopped dangerously close to Soundwave’s valve.

His processor was screaming at him, and thinking coherently through it was like wading in fog. _Take him!_ every part of his body demanded. Bend him over and take him. Claim him. This one is yours. Not Megatron’s, not _anyone_ ’s but yours!

It was nonsensical, but all heavens was it tempting. Starscream had never even looked twice at Soundwave before — Soundwave was the communications officer, more machine than mech, distantly ominous and frightening, understanding everything but never understood by everyone. Soundwave was a one-way mirror. The black glass of his visor. 

But now Starscream was looking. No, the problem was that _everyone_ was now looking.

“Unless that’s what you want,” Starscream said. His claws drew thin lines over Soundwave’s thighs, clicking over seams and patterns. “Is it?” he asked. “ _Is it?_ ”

No answer. Something that might've been the tip of a helm but he couldn't be sure of.

A mech with better judgement would’ve left. A better mech would’ve locked off the Command centre until Soundwave’s heat was through and kept a close eye on all mechs to ensure no one got in. Starscream had heard stories about mechs becoming so desperate after the first weeks that they’d broken out of prisons, or through ninth-grade reinforced doors, just to reach another one in heat.

Starscream was not a mech with better judgement. 

If he had the advantage of objectivity, or insight into Soundwave’s thoughts, he would see the setup and premeditation unfolding clear as day. But in the moment he had none of these, and barely had many thoughts at all, bar: _mine mine mine mine_ -

He pressed the tip of his claw into the seam of Soundwave’s valve. It gave with no resistance at all, impossibly pliant, and was so wet that Starscream nearly found himself sinking deeper than he’d intended, yet it was still tight around him, all heat wrapped around his claw. Soundwave’s EM field was a peculiar blend of calm and inviting — Starscream had never met a mech so adept at hiding their feelings — though there it was: a streak of buried desire.

But he was in _heat_. Of course he wanted any spike to come and take him, and somehow this thought inflamed Starscream. Soundwave would want him only because he happened to be the only mech around. That anger _twisted_ , ferocious, snapping. Starscream was not nobody! He was the leader of the Decepticons!

“Is this what you want?” Starscream voice dipped into a scratching growl, and abruptly he planted a claw against Soundwave’s back and pushed him down — just as he’d been so impatiently wanting to — to be sprawled over the console. Soundwave did not resist; his caught himself with his broad plated arms and stayed there, and it was so astoundingly provocative that Starscream could only stop to stare, even despite the heat building behind his panel and anger and the desperation to spike.

Starscream knew Soundwave had been a gladiator, though he’d been re-framed from those days until he was lighter, more nimble, and this meant that he’d have to rely on speed and immaculate balance. But here, spread out like this, Soundwave was undeniably off-balance, his pedes slightly apart, his cables unable to help him stand because they were plugged into the console. “For anyone to come up to you,” Starscream said, plunging his fingers in deeper while Soundwave’s valve made a small wet sound, “And you’d _let_ them.”

Soundwave’s helm tipped imperceptibly. 

“Is that a yes?” he taunted, leaning over and resting his weight against Soundwave’s back, pinning him down. His wings had flared out wide like a great bird of prey, and his EM field dripped possession and every inch of dominance that he’d wished to channel when he’d dreamed of becoming a ruler. His fingers were coated in Soundwave’s lubricant as the valve slowly cycled open. Oh, Primus above. He just wanted _in_. That valve was pleading to be fragged. “Has anyone touched you before me?” Sets of metal turned, calibrating, their movements barely perceptible through the plush mesh lining. Starscream couldn’t wait any longer. Soundwave was so open for him, so wanting. Starscream couldn’t form a single coherent thought that told him to stop. 

_Stop no wait_  some part of him said, and it was swept away. 

“Didn’t think so,” Starscream breathed, and withdrew his hand to push his extended spike in. Soundwave arched beneath him, and Starscream wrapped his arms around his torso and buried his helm into Soundwave’s neck and _bit_. Soundwave’s valve spasmed around him, and Starscream slowed his push for it, letting it adjust to him, listening to the low run of static through Soundwave’s vocaliser. 

He wanted to hit a hard and steady pace immediately, but something in him worried that Soundwave really was out of experience. Instead, he let his spike sink slow, captivated by feeling of parting dark valve lips around it, the quiver through Soundwave’s body, and was subconsciously running his claw over Soundwave’s front in soothing circles.

When he had seated in to the hilt, he was unsurprised to feel the bump of a tank-bolt. No sparking here, then — but who had installed it, and when? Was it something from the gladiatorial rings? He had no moment to wonder, because then Soundwave’s EM field wrapped needy around his, heated and demanding and all forms of begging that Starscream knew he’d never hear from Soundwave’s vocaliser. It made his every wire feel like it was on fire. Or he was floating on air.

“As you wish,” Starscream crooned, burying the tail end of his words into the crook of Soundwave’s neck. He rolled his hips in a long, slow thrust, and felt Soundwave’s body twitch beneath his; his mask for a face turned towards Starscream. “That’s right,” Starscream said. “Look at me. Look at me when I frag you. That’s right – beautiful thing.”

The Command centre filled with the ringing of their coupling: clangs and lubricant squelching, Starscream running a low litany of talk as Soundwave spat static. They were pressed from front to back, Starscream’s spike sliding into and out of Soundwave’s valve in glistening flashes of metal. Lubricant and transfluid streaked down their thighs and Starscream lost all sense of time. His instinct to take a mech in heat was a living thing inside him, burning him up, demanding that he mate this mech again and again. 

He knew Skywarp had appeared at some point — he’d snapped around and snarled, claws instantly extending, hardly registering that it was his _trine_ but rather that it was a contester, someone else coming and encroaching onto his territory - his! - as he ceased in his thrusts and pulled Soundwave flush to him, hiding him from prying optics. 

Thundercracker had dragged Skywarp away, and Starscream lost himself in his interface once more. Soundwave was everything as he’d imagined. His vocaliser had started emitting half-broken, breathy moans, and each one went straight to Starscream’s processor and ignited it further. He’d never heard something so delightful in his life. He’d never _felt_ more powerful in his life, to have this usually-wordless mech writhing beneath him, his hips like perfect handles for Starscream to drag him onto his spike, his hands clutching onto Starscream’s.

When there was a lull between rounds, Starscream unplugged Soundwave from the consoles, and Soundwave did not resist, weakly winding his cables around Starscream’s body, his valve still stuffed full. And Starscream walked them back to his quarters, every step making Soundwave desperately gasp his in arms as Starscream’s spike was jostled.

There, he had energon stores to refuel him and his mate with, and lay Soundwave down to frag him senseless again and again. At some point Soundwave had gotten louder, and Starscream could almost find words in his wavering cries — and at some point Soundwave had reached out to touch his face in his spindle-fingers, tipping his head forwards until they bumped helms, and Starscream only saw his own reflection in the unrevealing visor of black. 

Starscream thought he was supposed to feel uneasy, but instead he thought about how nice of a feeling it was. To be held. To hold someone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't read the next chapter unless you want to die inside


	2. Exit.

 

Starscream emerged from his heat-haze relatively unfazed, checked his chronometer, saw about a hundred pings from his trine-mates even though it’d only been a week, and groaned. A shift of dark plating beside him alerted him to a recharging Soundwave’s presence, and he had a brief moment of surprise.

Soundwave?

He’d interfaced with _Soundwave_?

Memory returned in a flood-tide and he fought another groan. Starscream had really outdone himself this time. Not that it was too bad, he reasoned. For all his infamy, Soundwave seemed- _normal_. He was no eldritch horror. Starscream remembered flickers and flashes of warmth, soothing, wrapped around each other so tightly that it’d been impossible to disentangle. 

And stupid things Starscream had said while they laid in berth together. Saying that he knew Soundwave understood him. The top was a lonely place, and he knew Soundwave understood everything. Even his treachery, surely?

Soundwave’s fingers spelling the glyphs of his name against his shoulders. 

No. Whatever Soundwave was, it was a far cry from eldritch horror.

Soundwave stirred when Starscream sat up, his visor running a feed that was too fast for Starscream to follow. Starscream looked down at him and his sharp-pointed helm, dark and unreadable as ever. Even his EM field had withdrawn entirely. 

A sudden twinge ran through him. Had Starscream made a mistake? 

“A heat, hm?” he said as a cable curled up his arm, affectionate, as though trying to ease his concerns. Soundwave raised a hand to touch his face, and Starscream found his spark unexpectedly uncurling. “I never knew you had them.”

A grainy recording of Knock Out played, timestamped only days before Megatron’s demise. ‘– _showing symptoms for a heat cycle, but he’ll burn through them fast as long as he has a partner_ ’. In it, Soundwave looked from Knock Out to Megatron, who was listening with an unbridled glee.

_Ping!_ went his comm system again as message one hundred and sixty came in. Starscream finally looked — he’d held off earlier, assuming it was just Skywarp’s usual pestering and taking Soundwave as the higher priority.

The door blew in. 

Starscream hit the floor in a shriek of metal as the berth erupted and had Soundwave clutched under him. His wings were flared out both for aggression and to shield, every strut in his frame determined to protect _what was his_ \- when he saw who stood in the doorway.

But it _couldn’t_ be. It couldn’t be Megatron- Megatron was stuck in stasis! He had been downed after the ground bridge explosion, after Starscream had stolen the shard of dark energon. Even Knock Out had deemed him unrepairable!

“I have made a few great mistakes,” Megatron growled, his voice filling every last corner of the room. “But there is one I do not intend to make again!”

“My Lord!” Starscream rasped. The blast of the fusion cannon seared the paint from his plating, made his very wires sizzle and pop from his wrists, temperature building higher and higher and threatening to boil the energon in his lines, vapourise them into combustion- and then the heat dropped away abruptly. 

His optics scrambled for self-repair, the shuddering room coming slowly into focus, looking for what had halted Megatron’s wrath. A dark shape in his arms, disentangling from him, rising. 

“Soundwave?” he heard Megatron demand. “Why are you here?”

Starscream’s claws steamed in the aftermath of the burning. There was a long pause where the dread began sinking in: the realisation that everything had been ripped away. He felt Soundwave’s lighter footsteps moving away from him and to Megatron’s side, and that was the nail in the coffin. Megatron had returned to take everything away. His tanks fell.

“You’ve been into _heat_ ,” Megatron said. “You’ve-“

There was no warning, only the shaking of the floor and then suddenly Megatron’s claws were clutching his head, pain erupting as a thumb pierced through his optic and ripped into the wires behind it. 

“You’ve taken his _heat_ ,” Megatron snarled. He was the monster mechs feared, dripping with shadow and red eyes, claw threatening to distend Starscream’s helm until it’d give in like a faulted pipe. Soundwave stood behind him, and for a blinding second of pain Starscream hated him too. He’d walked back to Megatron’s side without a second thought. He stood there doing nothing — watching as he always did. 

Of course he’d always stand by Megatron! Soundwave and Megatron- they had risen from the pits together! How could Starscream have ever presumed differently?!

Megatron grabbed his neck and twisted, and he opened his throat to scream. Pain was everything, his neck crumpling in the grasp and then he was falling to the ground, shuddering, and Megatron was suddenly turning back to Soundwave. Soundwave had opened his panel, exposing his valve- his valve oh Primus his valve the forbidden inside that he’d let Starscream into — and releasing his cables to drape over Megatron’s shoulders, guiding him away, his EM field flaring out with a familiar dripping desire. 

Starscream’s howl was nothing but static. Megatron was picking Soundwave up, Soundwave so small in his arms, folding like a jackknife. “Is it not finished?” he asked, and at Soundwave’s tight nod, he threatened, “I will return for you soon, Starscream.” But Starscream’s eye was fixed only on the mech being carried away.

It was stupid to feel anything. They’d barely even talked. It’d just been a heat. So why did Starscream’s spark hurt even worse than his frame? 

Soundwave’s helm was tucked under Megatron’s as though it’d been forged to fit there and he did not look back at Starscream. He spread his legs for Megatron — always for Megatron. And Starscream meant nothing to everybody once more.

He was left nursing wounds that felt like they reached every part of him.

Over Megatron’s shoulder, one of Soundwave’s cables lifted as though reaching for him, and then the door closed. 


End file.
